


A Scoopful of Caustic Soda

by Feneris



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Apologies to Mary Poppins, Cleaning Up Dead Bodies, Crack, Dead Cartel Members, Gen, Humor, Murder, Music, Musical Cleaners, The Historic Hazbin Hotel, dead bodies, getting away with murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feneris/pseuds/Feneris
Summary: Charlie is covered in blood. She has a gun in one hand and a hammer in the other. There are a dozen dead cartel members bleeding into the lobby carpet. They have a family of five booked the next morning, who are expecting a safe, fun, family friendly experience in an historic hotel. Needless to say they’re in trouble.There’s only one option, call up Alastor and his specialized cleaning service and ask if they can do a rush job.
Relationships: Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 4
Kudos: 184





	A Scoopful of Caustic Soda

**Author's Note:**

> Once again another interest bit me, and this time is has to be a cartoon series with only one episode. Plus I like humour where everyone, or mostly everyone, are horrible people so you can laugh at their misfortune without guilt. 
> 
> Plus the idea that Alastor would totally burst into song while he’s hiding a body.

Vaggie has killed people before. Who hasn’t? Okay, most people haven’t. But when you worked on the streets you had to be prepared to do whatever you have to to protect yourself. She hadn’t meant to cave that woman’s skull in, she had just been trying to get her off her. And that man really had just fallen on her knife when his attempted robbery had met an uneven sidewalk. 

Her former pimp however had it coming. 

This… this is a bit more than just killing someone. 

“Vaggie! Are you alright?”

There’s blood spatter in Charlie’s hair, and across her face, and her shirt, and pants, and the claw hammer she has in her hand. 

“Vaggie! Speak to me! They didn’t get you did they!?” 

The blood is everywhere. Its soaking into the carpet, its staining the drywall, there’s even some dripping off the blades of the ceiling fan. 

“I… fine. I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me. I’m fine.” Her hands finally loosened on the sharpened broom handle she had been holding onto for dear life. She’s splattered with blood too she realized. 

There’s half a dozen dead bodies sprawled out over the lobby floor, three more slumped over the railings, and one smashed half-way through a wall. 

“Oh thank god,” Charlie let out a breath of relief. “I was so scared when he pointed his gun at you. I wasn’t even thinking.”

There are at least a dozen dead bodies in the hotel right now. The place is covered in blood. Charlie is covered in blood and has a hammer in one hand and a gun in the other. There are a dozen dead cartel members in the hotel and they have a family of five booked for tomorrow who are expecting a clean, fun, historical experience that does not involve dead fucking cartel members bleeding all over...

There was a thump from behind them. Charlie spun around and put five bullets into one of the corpses splayed out on the lobby floor. “Oh… it's just muscle spasms. Guess I’m still a bit jumpy.”

They are in so much trouble right now. 

—

“What the hell were you thinking!?” 

“What? I thought he was just a guy with a South-American mafia fetish.” Angel gave a shrug. “I didn’t know he was an actual cartel member.” 

“And the twelve guys with guns didn’t tip you off!?”

Another shrug. “I thought they were just for the look. You know how it goes. Besides, twelve is nothing. I was at this party once and there were thirty…”

Angel is one of their best customers. His room is booked solid for the year. He may be a drug addicted prostitute, but he’s a rich one who pays his bills on time. Normally Vaggie would be the voice of pragmatic reason reminding Charlie that they needed Angel’s reliable patronage to keep the hotel afloat.

Right now she just wants to wrap her hands around his throat and choke the shit out of him, their bottom line be damned. 

“How was I supposed to know the Los Zetas had a beef with Charlie’s dad? You know I don’t keep up with politics.”

“You should at least know better than to let a dozen armed me into this hotel after hours using your hotel key! Were you fucking stoned!?”

...

Fuck. He had been. 

“Don’t know what you’re complaining about anyway,” Angel gave one of the dead bodies a kick. “Didn’t think Charlie had it in her. Always the ones you least expect eh? I bet her old man would be pretty proud to hear about… WHOA! Whoa there!” He grabbed Vaggie’s arms before her hands could wrap around his throat. “People pay good money for that. I can’t just let you have it for free.”

“THIS IS YOUR FAULT!” Vaggie snarled. “You are going to help us clean this up or God help me your cold fucking corpse will be on its way to the morgue right along wth the rest of these fucking shit heads!”

“Fine, fine,” Angel agreed. “Don’t know what you expect me to do. Necrophilia ain’t exactly my thing babe.” He prodded one of the corpses with the toe of his boots. “Don’t know why you chicks can’t just hire a cleaning service or something.” 

—

Vaggie loves Charlie with all her heart. But Charlie’s family is fucking scary. Not the Adams Family kind of scary either. Odd, and freaky but otherwise good people. Not even close. They’re bullet resistent windows in their house, sound-proofed torture dungeons, and bodies sent home in garbage bags kind of scary. Some people even think her dad is literally the Devil, and her dad hasn’t exactly disproven that theory. 

Still, it means that Charlie is one of the few people with access to that big black book that lists all the people that do horrible and illegal things for any price they care to name. 

“Immediate Murder Proffesionals?” 

“A bit late for them I think,” Charlie gave a weak laugh and a strained smile, as she flipped through the book. “Now where is it… ah!”

“Niffty Cleaners?” Vaggie read out loud. 

“It’s the front for the guy I want to hire,” Charlie explained as she dialed the number into her phone. “Hi, Alastor do you think you can come over and do a big rush job for us?”

—

Not even an hour later there’s a slick black sedan with polished fenders pulling up to the hotel’s back door. The door opens and Alastor himself stepped out.

Alastor was an incredibly tall man with an immaculate red suit, neat auburn hair, a tinted monocle in one eye, and a wide toothy smile that was more malevolent than happy. 

With him was a young woman in the cutesiest hazmat suit Vaggie has ever seen. It even has its own red skirt and a jaunty black scarf wrapped around the neck. As well there’s a man with blood-shot eyes, beard shadow, and a Vietnam war tattoo from the 20th infantry regiment. 

“Good to see you again Darling!” Alastor called out the moment Charlie opened the back door. “And what can my humble cleaning service do for you today?” 

“Well…” Charlie’s smile is strained, but it’s there. Always make sure to smile, she had told Vaggie, he sees it as weakness if you don’t. “We had a few guests drop by uninvited. They made a real mess, and we’ve got customers coming tomorrow and we really have to have this cleaned up fast.”

“I certainly see that Darling” Alastor’s smile seemed to stretch even wider as he took in the carnage in the main lobby. “My my my…” His shoes squelched on the bloody carpet. “I always knew you had potential my dear. Well, no sense dithering is there. Let's get to work!” With a grand flourish he produced an antique radio and plopped it down on one of the last benches in the in the lobby that didn’t have any blood on it. 

A cheery tune started playing that tingled recognition in the back of Vaggie’s mind.

_If there’s a corpse you want gone.  
And you can’t afford to wait too long.  
Cut it into little pieces, add some lime.  
And it all goes down the drain!_

What.   
The.   
Fuck.

He’s singing. That freaky as fuck cleaner they just hired is standing in the middle of their bloodstained lobby singing. 

_Take some acid to the rest!  
Little pieces work the best!  
Chemistry makes your problems just melt away!_

Niffty has a bottle of some kind of hard industrial chemical and is scrubbing away at the blood and bits of visera on the railings and ceiling fan, muttering little determined nopes all the while. Husker is replacing the wooden panels that are too stained with blood to be cleaned. Angel is not so much helping him, as he taking advantage of the opportunity to hit on Husk. Husk’s only response is a surely growl and snarled. “Shut up and screw.” 

Charlie has joined in the singing. Of course she has. She can’t resist a good musical number. Her and Alastor are now dancing around the bodies, waving power-saws and plastic sheeting around. 

_Oh a scoop full of caustic soda makes the cadaver go down!  
The cadaver go do-own, the cadaver go down._

He’s doing a musical number in the middle of a fucking crime scene. 

They’ve hired a fucking musical cleaner.

—

Twelve hours and three impromptu musical performances later, whatever couldn’t be ground-away or washed down the drain was being dumped into garbage bags and loaded into the back of the slick black sedan. They haven’t said what they’re going to do with it all. But the way Niffty is letting out these alarmingly excited little giggles and flicking a lighter on and off, is giving Vaggie a pretty good idea. 

Charlie waves goodbye as they drive away, and Vaggie is relieved to see something other than the strained smile she’s been wearing all night. Alastor may have been a smiling, psychopathic freak with a taste for musicals, but even she had to admit he and his crew had done a damn good job. There’s absolutely no sign that anything remotely suspicious happened last night. Not so much as a single speck of blood. They even camouflaged the cleaning efforts. A few things look a bit newer than they did last night, but there’s no indication they had to rip out all the carpets, repaint the entire lobby, and replace half of the furniture.

There is absolutely nothing alarming when the family of five pulls up to the hotel an hour earlier than they had been booked. Despite the fact that Charile hadn’t got a single wink of sleep last night, she still somehow looks like a disney princess without the disney, as she walks down the main steps to greet the family. 

“Welcome to the historic Hazbin Hotel!” 

Her introductory tour is just as much sunshine and rainbows as it always is. As she leads the family through the hotel, explaining all the various important historical events that had happened inside, she gives absolutely no indication that the greastest mass murder in the hotel’s history happened just last night.


End file.
